Beyond the Mask
by FlanChanVon
Summary: "The Phantom of the Opera," a famous novel by Gaston Leroux, was always described at fictitious. The Opera Ghost never existed, and the great romantic tragedy never happened. When a young college student, however, stumbles across a modern day 'phantom,' what will she make of him? Was the Paris Opera really haunted by a masked man?
1. Chapter 1

_Twenty-two Years Ago..._

The faint howling of the wind outside was the only sound that caught Melinda's ear as she sat in her basement, resting on an old mattress and propped against the wall. It was late, and the city was being pelted with more snow than it had seen in...well, than it had seen in the history of its existence. It was a record-breaking storm, according to the local news station, and it had been relentless for the past several hours. The tiny room in the basement provided refuge and warmth from the elements. A bedside lamp was the only source of light, casting its warm glow over anything that sat within a seven-foot radius of its bulb, including Melinda's young, pale face, currently drawn into a grim expression. One hand rested on her still-swollen abdomen, the other loosely cradling the new life that had emerged from it.

Two hours earlier, the first pains of labor had stricken far too early as she was home from college visiting, causing her to clutch at her swollen abdomen in panic and stare in bewilderment at her younger sister, who was the only other person home at the time. Their parents were gone…a holiday party from which they wouldn't be returning for hours due to the sudden snowstorm. There was no way of contacting them; the phone lines throughout most of the city were down, so contacting professional medical assistance was out of the question, also. The odds always seemed to be in her favor, Melinda thought.

The pregnancy had been unplanned, one of the many instances of college romance having gone one step too far. Nobody knew where the father was, and only a select few knew _who_ he was, and all there was left was to accept the fact that there was going to be a new member added to the family, whether they wanted one or not. Her parents were, of course, less than thrilled with the news. They were a strict pair, somewhat biased and altogether stubborn in their ways, determined to give their girls the exact same upbringing as they themselves had been given.

The last six months had been rough.

Her seventeen-year-old sister, Carrie, however, was supportive, but was the last person she expected to be subjected to watching Melinda suffer through the birthing process. Yet there she was, single-handedly delivering the baby when no one else could, her amber eyes wide with concentration and worry as she instructed her elder sister the best she could with what little knowledge she had of delivering children.

Melinda's wails filled the small area, only serving as motivation for Carrie to hurry and get her niece or nephew out before her sister passed out from pain. It was a surprisingly short labor, but it seemed to have lasted an eternity. Carrie had never felt so under pressure, and Melinda had never been more terrified. The foreheads of both girls had been glistening with sweat by the time the first cry of new life had rang out, crystal clear in the small basement room.

The sound was beautiful. A baby's first cry is a welcome sound to all ears present, and probably the most wonderful sound a new mother could ever hear. This voice, the voice of Melinda's new son, was breathtaking…almost bewitching. Never before had either girl heard such a cry.

Tears were streaming down her face as Melinda gasped and laughed and choked on her own happiness. She pushed her damp black hair away from her forehead, requesting to hold her child as soon as she could get the words out and questioning Carrie impatiently when all her sister did was stare blankly at the infant.

That's when she saw his face.

* * *

"How's he doing?"

Melinda glanced up at Carrie, who had just returned from tossing the filthy bed sheets in the washer – bed sheets that had been on the spare mattress used during the labor and that had been soaked in blood, fluids from the womb, and vomit.

Melinda ran the hand previously rested on her stomach aimlessly along the soft, clean quilt that had been put down after the birth, giving her sister a weak smile. "He's Fine."

Carrie walked over to the mattress and knelt down so that she could sit on the edge, closer to her elder sibling. "…How are _you_ doing?"

Melinda's smile faltered, before redeeming itself albeit appearing more faked than before. "Fine."

"Melinda…" Carrie warned.

"Really, Carrie, I'm okay," Melinda insisted.

Carrie raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. "After your little incident earlier? Those sheets were going to be a pain to wash already without the puke thrown into the mix."

Melinda's smile became a bit more genuine as she shook her head. Her sister's blunt statement was only said in an attempt to make her feel better; that was how Carrie's sense of humor worked…just like their dad.

Both girls were silent then, staring at nothing in particular for several moments. Simultaneously, they both tilted their head to look at the bundle resting in Melinda's other arm, soft little breaths fluttering the tag of the felt blanket that had been carefully positioned over the infant's face, shielding him from view without restricting his breathing. He had finally fallen asleep an hour ago after being hesitantly fed by Melinda, who dared not look. It was much too hard, and she knew it would remain so for a long while.

"So," Carrie was the first to speak.

Melinda swallowed. "So…"

The younger of the two hesitated. "What are we gonna tell Mom and Dad?"

Melinda pinched her lips together. This had been the very question that was weighing down on her mind for the past couple of hours. After much meditation and inner conflictions, she still was not one hundred percent sure herself. Her parents could be pretty unpredictable people when it came to surprises. The way they handled the news of the pregnancy was, however, expected. They were extremely biased people, set in their ways, and pre-marital pregnancy was not on their list of acceptable things. Her father could barely look at her for weeks, and her mother would often drop not-so-subtle hints of how gravely disappointed she was. It was a mess.

Melinda inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly as she reached up and pinched a corner of the baby's facial covering in between a thumb and forefinger, lifting it away slowly. Carrie's eyes widened at the action, but she said nothing. Melinda bit her lower lip as her son slowly came into view, the wispy strands of jet black feathering across the smooth but obviously discolored forehead. His closed eyes were sunken deep into his skull; the still-puffy flesh surrounding the sockets was tinged a dark gray instead of the normal pink.

Melinda thanked every god above that his eyes were closed at the moment. That sharp, fluorescent yellow was sickeningly eerie to look at.

The material continued to slide gently down the baby's face, barely tickling his skin. The small bump in the fabric where the nose should have passed under never came, only sliding along to reveal and empty hole, similar to the nose cavity of a skinless skull. Melinda suppressed a whimper.

His lips were seemingly the only normal thing about him, despite being thin and lacking of any color. They pinched together slightly as he slept, twitching at the corners. It was clear he was dreaming.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Melinda peeled her eyes away from the deformity that was her son's face, focusing her faze on her only other companion.

"We don't tell them."

Carrie's gasped, a hand coming up to cover the sound too late. "Mel!"

"He was stillborn," Melinda continued before she could be interrupted. "There were complications, and my body aborted him. I left early to go back to my apartment because I couldn't handle them seeing me stressed out…I needed time to sort myself out."

Carrie realized where Melinda was going with this, but she was wary. Not telling their parents would mean that Melinda would not only have a baby to raise on her own, but she would have to keep him a secret from everybody (excluding her, of course). Carrie did not like this.

"I know what you're going to say," Melinda said, analyzing her sister's expression, "but you _know_ our parents. One of their "solutions" was to take a pill, the other was adoption. I _barely _convinced them to let me keep him, and how do you think they'll react to him being like…this?"

Carrie's mouth remained tightly shut, but Melinda knew that her sister knew what she was talking about.

"You can fight me all you want on this," Melinda continued, setting her jaw tight, "but I'm taking him back to the apartment, incognito, and raising him…" She glanced down at the bundle again, swallowing hard. "…to the best of my abilities."

"…you're not gonna go alone."

Melinda's eyes snapped up to meet her sister's, steel blur meeting bright amber. "What?"

Carrie lowered her eyes sheepishly to stare at her lap, mindlessly thumbing at a ripped seem in her jeans. "I-I know I should have asked you about it first, but since our parents would ultimately have to give the ok…I asked Mom and Dad if I could stay with you and the baby if you did need the extra help, and they gave the ok. Mom actually seemed kind of impressed that I would be willing to take on such responsibility, so…" As soon as Carrie had seen her nephew, she had had second thoughts on this choice of action. Seeing Melinda, however, and knowing how uncomfortable she was with the baby, that was what finalized her decision.

Melinda was aghast. "Carrie…you…"

"I'm sorry!" Carrie flung her hands up to her face. "I know I should have asked you first but it kept slipping my mind and you were so occupied with making up classes and…"

"Shhh, Carrie, stop." Melinda gently pulled her sister's hands away from her face to look at her. "Why would I be upset?" In fact, Melinda was the opposite of upset. She had always known that her sister was selfless, to the point where Melinda looked to her as a good moral example. What she did not expect was to have her mind blown by this shocking yet heartwarming gesture. It was overwhelming, but Melinda couldn't be more elated with the idea that she would not have to face this alone.

"Well…" Carrie paused. "You always did kind of get mad when I do stuff without asking…like when I borrowed your car?"

Melinda smiled to herself, suppressing a chuckle. Carrie was probably the most considerate teenager that she had ever known of. She loved her for that. "That was so long ago, Carrie…"

"But still, I should have asked you first. I just can't let you do this alone, not like this."

Melinda gave the teen's hands a squeeze, gazing at her sister adoringly. "Carrie…I would love it if you would come live with me…it would mean the world. Thank you."

Carrie shrugs, averting her eyes bashfully, a grin playing at her lips. "What are sisters for?"

Melinda grinned, giving one last squeeze before dropping her hands. They sat like that, relishing in the silence and the prospect of the changes to take place in the near future. The wind outside had died down substantially, the snow having all but stopped. The whirring of a city snowplow could already be heard in the distance. It wasn't until a small noise pulled them from their thoughts, bringing their attention instead to the shifting mound of blankets in Melinda's arms. The baby was waking up.

Melinda's stomach churned at the prospect of having to feed again, those large, almost glowing orbs gazing up at her in the process. She bit her lip as the infant's eyes cracked open, focusing on her straight away. The baby boy lifted a tiny fist in the air, his fingers uncurling and making grabby motions. His lips parted, a whimper fluttering outwards in that oh-so-sweet voice of his. It was almost enough to settle Melinda's sickness. Almost.

"Here." Carrie said, slipping her hands beneath the infant and lifting him from his mother's arms. "You can mix the formula this time. I'll feed him."

Melinda tried not to sigh with relief as the tiny form was lifted from her arms. She stood, albeit shakily, and walked towards the doorway, sparing a glance over her shoulder as Carrie settled into her spot, supporting her nephew's head and actually attempting to baby-talk the child…which was much more than Melinda could manage.

As she stepped into the basement's small, somewhat rundown kitchen, she smiled to herself. This was how it was probably going to be: She and Carrie, raising a baby together, the ultimate sister bonding experience. It would take a long, long time for Melinda to get used to, especially when she couldn't stop cringing at the sight of her own son's deathly face, but time would make things easier. They would be taking turns doing everything, and it would just be the three of them…

"Just us…"

Melinda, Carrie…and Jason.


	2. Chapter 2

_...Present Day._

It seemed there were only two distinct seasons in the town of Emmet, South Dakota: summer and winter, the former of which always seeming significantly longer. Even spring was abnormally chilly until the rains of May began moving in. Autumn was no different. In fact, the cold set in faster in the fall than it disappeared before the warmer weather. Even the locals, who prided themselves at having been born and bred in the city, would bundle in their scarves and jackets as they trudged down the sidewalks of downtown Emmet, the tall, gray, silent buildings doing nothing to block the wind that caused teeth to chatter and breath to materialize…and it wasn't even the middle of October when this happened.

South Dakota had a climate typical of any Midwestern state; the temperature range was vast, and news of record temperatures being broken was a common occurrence, especially within the Emmet metro area. Some would say the city and its neighboring communities lived within their own little weather bubble, for strange weather patterns seemed to always either hit or miss completely – the blizzard of twenty-two years past a prime example of the phenomenon.

That was what excited Erin Carmody about this place – the spontaneity. And she was going to get to spend the entire weekend here with her favorite (and only) brother. _Yes!_

The soft taps of two pairs of shoes cut through the still November air as two siblings, side by side, trekked through one of Emmet's coziest suburbs on a peaceful Friday afternoon. The few trees scattered across dead lawns were all but stripped of their leaves, the few remaining fluttering in the light breeze, waiting for the right gust of wind to send them sailing to the ground to join the rest of their kind. Many un-raked yards were blanketed in the thick layer of red, orange, and brown. Several of these properties had leaves that spilled over onto the sidewalk, creating a mosaic path that crunched when it was walked upon.

Passing by one such lawn, Erin stopped just short of the leaf-encrusted sidewalk, drew back her leg, and kicked up a cluster to clear herself a path, giggling softly as she caught sight of one that had lodged in the back of her companion's sneaker. He remained unaware, and she planned on keeping it that way.

"How many more houses?" she asked, shifting the box in her hands as she caught up with the boy who had gotten ahead of her.

He smirked down at her, brown eyes hinting at amusement. "Impatient much?"

Her matching eyes shot up to meet his. "Psh, _you're_ one to talk about impatience, Rory."

The taller of the two feigned insult, a hand coming up to cover a dramatic gasp. "I am offended, dear sister, that you would say such a thing!"

Erin only rolled her eyes. "Let me remind you that I nearly tripped down the apartment steps and face planted with how hard you pulled me out the door. If that doesn't spell _overeager_, I don't know what does."

Rory scoffed. "_Clutz_."

"I didn't drive two hours for you to tease me for an entire weekend, you know."

"What else did you expect from me?"

The two spent the next full minute in an elbowing match, trying simultaneously to balance their packaged fliers, before their bickering ceased and their steps fell in unison on the pavement. Rory made a sharp right with little warning, nearly running into his sister as he marched up the walkway of a charming two-story. Erin gave his arm a smack once she caught up with him before pulling out a gaudy piece of paper and wedging it inside the glass storm door. The large red letters that read 'SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL TEAM – TORNADO FOOTBALL FUNDRAISER' at the top of the neon yellow paper could probably have been seen from the street.

"So what's the deal with these fliers anyway?" Erin shifted her load to her other arm, using the opposite hand to absently tuck a strand of her brunette fringe behind her ear. "I've never heard of a _football_ team hosting a _bake sale_…it's a bit of a comical thing to picture, don't you think?

They made their way up the next driveway, stepping up onto a patio that lined the entire front of the home. Rory slipped a paper through the metal mail slot. He sighed. "Coach says we need to start being more 'self-reliant' as a team and earning our own equipment instead of relying on school funding…which is pretty much just his way of saying that the college's extracurricular budget cuts were pretty beefy."

"Hmmm…beefy. Sounds pretty drastic."

"Oh, shut up," the athlete said, tweaking her ear between his thumb and forefinger. "I'm supposed to be the smartass of this duo. Since when are you so snarky?"

Erin grinned. "I learn from the best."

"Uh-huh." Rory pinched her ear once more, taking car to avoid her piercing, before tucking his hand in the pocket of his crimson hoodie. "But yeah, it's pretty stupid, but what coach says goes."

"And he chose a bake sale, of all things?"

"Yeah…" Rory sighed again, kicking an acorn out of his path. "We're a quality team, and this season was one of our best in years. I don't know what could have possessed the school to lower our team budget by so much. It's dumb." Emmet Area Community College was one of the best in the area when it came to athletics. It was a small college, but its program was extensive. That was specifically why the male twin had chosen to apply. That, and their genetics program was pretty stellar.

The young woman shrugged. "Probably didn't seem dumb to the finance specialists."

Rory stopped abruptly in his tracked, a soft "Oof!" coming from his sister as she collided with his back. He turned to face her, cocking a hip to the side and planting a hand on his hip. He tried not to laugh at how the shorter of the two rubbed at her nose, a light pout on her rosy lips.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Rory said. "My sister – my _own little sister_ – siding against me. When has that _ever_ happened?"

Erin rolled her eyes. "_Plenty_ of times…especially in Scrabble during our family game nights." Smiling, she reached up to ruffle her brother's messy brown hair, the action requiring her to rise up on the balls of her feet. "And I'm ten minutes older than you, _lil' bro_."

"And also ten inches shorter."

Erin scoffed, brushing past her twin to continue their path, only or her foot to hit a solid object and send her stumbling forward. The box wavered in her arms, and a couple of papers nearly slid out in the process. After regaining her balance, she straightened and looked at the offending obstacle, retreating quickly to its original position beside its sneakered counterpart. The owner of said sneakers only grinned innocently.

"Ha, ha, ha," was Erin's attempt at a humorless reply. Rory only sniggered.

They walked in silence for a few more houses, playing their silent game of match-my-feet as they walked, only pausing to shift the weights in their arms or walk up to another house. Rory would occasionally glance at his sister, who seemed once again lost in her own little world. She had always had a habit, he noticed, of letting her mind wander, her eyes half lidded as she gnawed gently on the inside of her cheek. Sometimes her eyebrows would even come into play, knitting together and raising slightly, as if she were having a silent conversation with herself. It was entertaining to watch.

"So," Rory broke the silence, watching as Erin snapped out of whatever scene was playing itself out in her head and gazed sidelong at him. "You've never really told me how art school is going. How's art school treating you?"

That was what was nice about Erin's relationship with her twin brother – they could go from playful banter, to silence, to casual talk within minutes, and it would be completely natural. It was rare, Erin guessed, for such a relationship to exist, but she felt lucky to have been given one. She could never be this at ease with anybody without coming across as awkward.

"Eh, nothing really to tell," she stated. "I mean, classes are a little more difficult than last year, but that's to be expected…"

Rory nodded along, listening as his sister set off on talking about the start of her sophomore year, how eccentric her new roommate was, how said roommate's hair color changed every other week, and how she suspected her art history professor was secretly a druggy who experimented with incents in his free time. He snorted at that.

"My turn to shove one of these bad boys through someone's front door," Erin said as they turned into a dead end, containing little no more than four or five inhabited houses despite how long of a street it was. "We gonna hit up these houses?"

"Eh, why not?" Rory replied, squinting up at the street sign labeled _23__rd__St_. "It's pretty dead here, though…I mean, it _is_ a dead end." He smiled cheekily over at his sister.

She cocked a dark eyebrow in return, offering a slight tilt of her lips.

He was right, of course. The secluded 23rd street seemed to be severely lacking in human life. There were no cars in the driveways, and all curtains were drawn. Erin doubted that the houses on the entire left side of the street were even occupied. She wondered why this was; despite the plethora of trees that dotted the yards and the way they shrouded each house, it seemed like a perfectly normal neighborhood.

As if reading her thoughts, Rory clued her in. "Yeah, these houses haven't really been touched in a few years, and they were taken off market after no one would buy them. My buddy's grandpa lives in that house near where crossed the street, but he's thinking of selling soon and moving in with the family. The poor dude has been pretty lonely since his wife died, and he can't get around much anymore."

Erin frowned. That was too bad. She glanced over her shoulder at the little yellow ranch that sat near the crosswalk, imaging the elder citizen that lived inside sitting by himself.

"Then there's the Cods' place," Rory continued, jerking a thumb behind him at a much larger ranch house on the other side of the one belonging to the old man. "I swear, they must have at least nine kids…unless the mom runs a daycare or something. It's a possibility."

Erin nodded, having seen the play equipment that littered the fenced-in backyard and figured as much.

"There are these two other women that live in the one at the end of the street, but they're pretty sketchy."

She looked towards the end of the street, and there it was, directly in line with the road. Usually, some sort of striped sign sat at the end of a dead end road, letting people know that they could not venture any farther. Instead, there was this house. It was painted a slate gray, with white shutters lining the two main windows that were visible from the front. One basement window was barely visible from behind the naked bushes. From where she was walking, Erin could see that the trees almost completely took up the area of grass on either side of the structure, making it look like the house was nestled in a forest.

The duo placed a few fliers in the mailboxes of houses that seemed to be occupied. Once they reached the end of the street, they stood on the sidewalk in front of the gray house. Erin rocked back and forth on her feet, glancing back and forth between her Rory and the house. She waited for him to say something, for he had been to one to stop on the sidewalk first.

"You know," Rory started, "I've never told you about the legend, have I?"

Erin looked at him quizzically. "Legend?"

The athlete grinned back. "I'm surprised I didn't; you would have _loved_ something like this. There's a rumor about this place that has been going around campus for the past twenty years or so. Everyone says that it's…" He whipped his head to the right, then to the left, before leaning closer to whisper in her ear. "…_haunted_."

Erin pushed his face away with a laugh. "Oh, shut up!"

Rory held up one of his large hands in defense. "Hey, it's the truth! That's what everyone on campus says! And I mean _everyone_. Even staff members from this side of town have their connections."

Erin raised both eyebrows, gazing sidelong at the mysterious house. "Like?"

"I dunno, _crazy_ stuff." Rory scratched at his scalp, a few locks of umber hair now sticking at weird angles. "Like, some of the cheerleaders on campus were doing their door-to-door fundraiser thing last fall, and they came back to the gym screaming and blubbering about this house right here," he motioned to the house, "saying they had seen some sort of ghost looking at them through the window."

"Uh-huh…"

"I don't know it they're sisters or married or _what_," he continued, "but the ladies that live here are _extremely_ secretive, and their place is notorious for this kind of stuff." Rory threw a wary glance at the house. "Actually, we probably shouldn't stand here much longer. Whoever's home might get suspicious if she sees us standing out here…they've been known to confront people in the past for intruding on their private property."

Erin sighed. "Fine, but shouldn't we at least slip one of these in their mailbox?" She waved a flier in his face.

"Fine fine, but let's just get going. We still have to hit the east side."

One of the neon sheets was folded neatly and placed inside the battered old mailbox, the faded numbers stickered onto the side having received their fair share of weather damage. Rory slammed the lid shut, and the two set off, heading back towards the main road. Erin stole another glance over her shoulder, shaking her head as she focused her attention on her and her brother's feet, in sync once more.

She was just going to pretend she didn't see the basement curtains draw back.

Once they had walked all the way back to Rory's parked Chevy, Erin could see just how far the sun had sunk towards the horizon. It was almost completely hidden behind the distant buildings of downtown; their tall, geometric silhouettes against the orange and crimson backdrop were picture-perfect. She almost wished she would have taken up photography at some point.

"It's getting late," Erin commented, bringing the collar of her jack up to shield her neck against the dropping temperature. "We should probably call it quits for the night."

"Ah~, but Erin," Rory whined. "The east side won't take nearly as long as the south district! We can spare a few more hours."

Erin shook her head. "It's getting dark and colder by the minute. We can wait until tomorrow."

"There are a crap ton of streetlights in the south district," he retorted.

Erin yanked the passenger door open. "_Rory_."

"_Erin_."

The brunette girl groaned. "Have you even eaten yet?"

Rory opened his mouth to retort, only for his stomach to speak for him. The low grumble could be heard even from Erin's side of the truck, and she did her best to bite back a chuckle and look triumphant. Rory pouted down at his abdomen, mentally scolding it for betraying him and reminding him that, no, he had not eaten since lunchtime, and a big strong linebacker such as himself needed sustenance.

"That settles it," she laughed, stepping up into the passenger seat and slamming the door. Rory following suit, putting the key in the ignition and sitting back to let the vehicle heat up.

"So where to tonight?" Rory turned to his sister. "It's your first night here, so you get first choice on dinner."

"Dude, I don't even know what's good here," Erin laughed. "You have failed as my brother and skipped the part where you gave me a tour of the town."

"Okay okay, _fine_." Rory scratched his stubbly chin. "Let's see, where to take my little sister on her first night in town. It's gotta be somewhere classy…"

Erin hummed in agreement. "It should give me a taste of what this big college town is _really _like."

"Pizza Hut?" Both twins said in unison.

Rory slammed his hand on the steering wheel loudly as Erin guffawed, both hands pressed to her mouth and nose to keep from snorting. One would think a pair of twins who had spent their entire lives together would have been used to coincidences like this. The Carmody twins were the exception.

"That damn twin telepathy!" Rory exclaimed through laughter.

"Never gets old." Erin agreed, wiping away an invisible tear.

After their sibling giggle fest, Rory finally switched into drive and pulled away from the curb, sending the truck cruising in the general direction of town square, where he knew a lovely Pizza Hut was just waiting for them. After a few minutes of driving, he dared a glance at the passenger seat, where a young artist was already staring out the window, her mind miles and miles away from her brother's beat up old truck, the ghost of a smile still on her lips from their exchange. He smiled softly, before turning his gaze back to the road.

In all actuality, Erin's mind was not too far from the city, whose towers and skylines began twinkling with the lights of office windows as the sun dipped below the horizon. As her gaze flickered rapidly to keep up with passing objects, her mind slid its way back to 23rd street, to the lonely, mysterious house at the end of the avenue. She thought about Rory's ridiculous claim of it being 'haunted,' and of the private yet shady lives the women inhabiting the place much lead.

'Not my idea of excitement in the big city,' Erin thought to herself, 'but it's certainly intriguing.'

The rest of the drive to town was spent listening as Rory's stomach growled three more times, and Erin blasting the Spanish station to drown out any more of the offending noises after Rory attempted verbal communication with his angry abdomen.


End file.
